


july second

by daisylincs



Series: Agents of Birthdays [11]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Agents of Birthdays, Birthday Surprises, Canon Compliant, Celebrations, Daisy Johnson's Birthday, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gift Fic, Happy Birthday Ania!!, Sorry Not Sorry, birthday fic, bonding fic, but idk what the real timeline is so I made it up, friendship fic, missing moment, set mid-season 3, with some background shippiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/pseuds/daisylincs
Summary: Daisy has never had the best luck with birthdays, but this year, her boyfriend, with significant amounts of help from her team, are determined to change that.(Or, Daisy Johnson's 27th birthday surprise, with commentary by Lance Hunter.)
Relationships: Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons (minor), Lincoln Campbell & Agents of SHIELD Team, Lincoln Campbell & Lance Hunter, Lincoln Campbell/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson & Agents of SHIELD Team
Series: Agents of Birthdays [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886911
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	july second

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctorofaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorofaos/gifts).



> Dear Ania, 
> 
> Superstition is such a load of utter rot, don’t you think? Today was a perfectly _delightful_ Friday! And on this perfectly delightful Friday, let’s take a little trip down memory lane and sentimentality. 💖
> 
> You and I first met in the heart of lockdown, in quite a tricky time for everyone, really - right when this nonsense had been going on for a _while,_ and we were all getting pretty darn frustrated with it. But what you did for me was something really, really special - brought me a couple of moments of pure and simple _laughter_ amongst all the madness. Yes, I am talking about your AoS Team as British Food moodboards - those made my entire _week_ to see, really, and just gave me that little slice of absolute happiness I really needed.
> 
> Then we started talking, and I found out that you’re even more creative, kind and amazing than I had even dreamed at first: so today I just wanted to thank you, really thank you, for being you. You really are absolutely fantastic!!
> 
> And I know this hasn’t been a conventional birthday for you - in _any_ sense of the word - but I do hope you’ve managed to find some scraps of happiness amongst them, even if they are just a little something from a fandom. But you know, as our story proves… they can be the very best little somethings of all. 
> 
> Sending you big hugs today, and once again, happy, happy birthday!!!

Hunter grumbled to himself as he went through the base’s fridge, wondering for the thousandth time why he had decided to emigrate to America, of all places. It had to be the worst investment in decent beer he had ever made.

Honestly, was it _so_ hard to find a bloke a pint of Guinness?

But, apparently, it was. Hunter had been through the Playground’s extensive fridges several times, and hadn’t been able to find so much as a _drop_ of the Irish staple.

“Bloody Yanks,” he muttered under his breath, glancing up sharply when he heard a throat clear.

Lincoln was standing in the doorway, one hand awkwardly rubbing the side of his neck. “Sorry, are you busy?” he said, sounding about as awkward as he looked.

Hunter shrugged his shoulders, going for a wry smile. “Busy, but without the results that I’d like, so I’m happy to talk. What can I do for you, mate?” 

The other man shifted from foot to foot, still looking incredibly awkward. “Well, uh, it’s about Daisy.” 

That got Hunter’s attention. “If it’s relationship advice you want, mate, you’ve come to the right place,” he said, lifting up the Bendeery’s beer he had settled for in a silent toast.

Lincoln’s eyes widened, and he actually took a step back. “Uh, no,” he said. “ _No_. I’m good, thanks.” 

Hunter didn’t know whether he should laugh or be offended - he _was_ good at relationship advice, thank you vey much. He was going to claim at _least_ fifty percent of the credit for finally pushing Fitz and Jemma’s oblivious faces together. 

… Though, to be completely fair to Lincoln, the _one_ time he had seen Hunter and Bobbi together was when they had been right in the middle of arguing about scuba-diving prices to retrieve his wedding ring. Okay, yeah, no, his reaction was very fair. 

“No problem, mate,” Hunter said, raising his beer again. “What _can_ I do for you, then?” 

“I actually _do_ need your advice,” Lincoln said. “But for planning a party.” 

“A party?” Hunter asked, straightening. “Whose?” 

“Well, Daisy’s,” Lincoln said. Before Hunter could ask, he went on, “I thought you guys might not know, because Daisy only found out in Afterlife from Jiaying, and she didn’t actually get the chance to, you know, take the day off and tell you all the little, happier details of what happened there, what with Jemma being sucked through that rock and the Inhuman Outbreak and everything. But, yeah, Daisy’s birthday - her real birthday - is July second.” 

He met Hunter’s gaze directly, blue eyes frank. “And I don’t know if you know _this_ \- you probably do, though - but Daisy hasn’t had the best luck with birthdays in the past. I mean, for starters, she never even knew her real birthday till a few months ago. And the foster families she’s had were… not the best, and they hardly ever celebrated it for her. Actually, I’m pretty sure she got sent back to the orphanage _on_ her birthday once, so that’s… yeah.” 

“Anyway, the point is, I wanted to ask you to help me make this next birthday really, really special for her. I would ask Jemma, because I know she’s Daisy’s best friend, but she’s still recovering from Maveth, the torture and losing Astronaut Guy. So, well, I figured that you and I don’t know each other very well, but we both care a lot about Daisy, right?” 

He paused for breath, and Hunter took the opportunity to nod emphatically, setting his beer down with a thump and getting up to clap Lincoln on the shoulder. “That has to be one of the best ideas I’ve heard all month, mate,” he said. “And you couldn’t be more right. All of us here care about Daisy, a _lot._ It’s practically impossible not to, you know?” 

Lincoln nodded, his whole expression changing into something _softer,_ happier. “I definitely know.” 

Hunter nudged his shoulder, surprising himself by how comfortable it felt. He hadn’t been to sure of Lincoln at first - come on, they barely knew the guy, and he hadn’t really spent any significant time with anyone other than Daisy - but his heart was in the right place.

Also, it was ridiculously sweet how his entire demeanor seemed to melt at even just the _mention_ of Daisy’s name; how everything about his bearing softened and relaxed. It was the worst case of heart-eyes he had seen since Jemma and Fitz... and he was completely behind it. 

Oh, speaking of Jemma and Fitz. “The whole team will want to be in on this, you know,” he told Lincoln.

The other man nodded immediately. “Of course, yeah,” he said. “I didn’t know how to ask them all, though, and you just seemed… easier to talk to? I don’t know.” He winced and dropped his gaze, looking self-consciously at the floor. 

But Hunter was touched. “Thanks, mate,” he said. “Really. It’s probably because I talk so _much,_ but still. Thanks.” 

Lincoln laughed wryly, but his eyes were sparkling slightly, and he looked, Hunter thought, a lot more comfortable. 

He was a lot nicer like that, too, Hunter thought critically. A scowl didn’t suit him nearly as much as a smile did. 

“Meet me in the common room in fifteen, yeah?” he told Lincoln. “I’ll gather everyone.” 

Lincoln smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter lines,which somehow made the blue of his eyes a lot more vivid, and changed his whole appearance - positively so. _Nice,_ Hunter thought, in passing deciding that he _could,_ after all, understand what Daisy saw in him. 

“Thanks,” Lincoln said, and Hunter smiled back. “See you.” 

//

Almost exactly fifteen minutes later, Hunter had gathered the entire team - “gather” being a relative word here. Coulson and May thought there was a national emergency, Joey had been told that he’d be fired if he wasn’t there, Fitz and Jemma had been bribed with McVitie’s Digestives, Mack had taken one look and unequivocally decided he'd have to play damage control, and Bobbi had rolled her eyes expressly at everyone but promised to be there. 

And now there they all were. Hunter couldn’t help but feel proud of himself, though he _did_ feel a little guilty for the green tinge to Joey’s cheeks. 

“Let’s get to it, Hunter, what’s the crisis?” May asked crisply once he had closed the door behind them. Her eyes narrowed as she swept the room. “Wait, where’s Daisy?” 

“That’s why we’re here,” Hunter said, showing her the OK ring with three fingers. “Lincoln, mate?” 

“Thanks, Hunter,” Lincoln said, looking a little stressed but squaring his shoulders as he came to stand in front of the team. “So, everyone, as you know -”

He cut himself off mid-sentence as he caught sight of Jemma leaning into Fitz’s side on the couch. _“Jemma!”_ he protested. “You’re not supposed to be up yet!” Expression concerned, he crossed over to Jemma and started to check the dressings on her wounds. “You just got tortured a couple of days ago, what _is_ it with you people?” 

“Thanks, doctor,” Jemma said dryly, pushing him lightly away from her. “But it’s all good, I can check those for myself.” 

Lincoln folded his arms. “That doesn’t mean you have to.” 

Her gaze softened. “Really, Lincoln, thank you,” she said, and Hunter took note of the first-name basis between them. _Interesting. And adorable._

“It’s been great to have your help these last few days,” Jemma went on. “The team loves to forget it, but I’m not _actually_ a medical doctor.” She glanced significantly around the room, and several people, Coulson in particular, winced.

“But really, I’m fine,” Jemma said, turning her attention back to Lincoln. “I gave myself some fentanyl before I walked here, and I was very careful not to disturb the dressings.”

“Besides,” she added significantly, “I was offered McVitie’s Digestives, and do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to find McVitie’s Digestives in America?” 

“I do,” Hunter said helpfully. 

“Which is why you _better_ have some for us when we’re done here,” Fitz said, glaring warningly at Hunter.

He raised his hands. “I actually do, my mum sent them over specially a few weeks ago, and I’ve been rationing them.” 

“That’s great, I’m sure,” May said with just a hint of bite behind the words. "But you still haven't told us what this is _about._ I was told that there was a crisis of _significant_ proportion that needed my attention immediately." 

Hunter winced. "Well, that's not… _entirely_ untrue?" 

"Lance. Hunter," May said in a dangerously calm tone of voice. "Why are we here?" 

"I'm just here for the McVities," Fitz said, raising his hands. 

_"Hunter,"_ May repeated, warningly. 

Lincoln stepped forward again. "Actually, I'm the reason you're all here."

May's gaze didn't turn even a _little_ less steely. "Oh?" 

To his credit, Lincoln held her gaze steadily. "Yeah," he said. "Me, and Daisy." 

Beside her, Coulson's eyes widened, and he stepped forward, half-reaching for his gun. "Oh, God, don't tell me you're… Daisy's… -" 

Lincoln choked on air. "No!" he spluttered, eyes very wide. "God, no, _no._ Why would you even…" 

He trailed off mid-sentence, clearly realising that pursuing that thought would _not_ be the best idea. 

Hunter tried to keep back his laughter, he really did, but he failed completely. Lincoln's _face_ was just too funny, and Coulson's literal _I-am-her-father-and-I-am-going-to-kill-you._

"I guess you're right, that doesn't make sense, anyway," Coulson conceded, reluctantly holstering the gun. "If she was… pregnant, she'd be here." His glare said, _she'd better be,_ and Hunter had to couldn't have stopped snickering even if he had tried. Coulson was just such a _dad_ sometimes. 

May gave him a curt nod, crossing her arms. "Good point. Though that does still beg the question, what _are_ we doing here?" 

"I'm assuming I'm not getting fired?" Joey asked, a hint of nerves in his eyes. 

"Of course you aren't getting fired," Lincoln told his teammate reassuringly, crossing the room to clap his shoulder. 

"That was just Hunter being dramatic," Bobbi said from her position next to Mack, shaking her head. (Hunter waved.) 

Joey visibly relaxed. "Oh, good," he said, clearly relieved. 

"What we _are_ here for," Lincoln said, "like I actually tried to explain a minute ago, is Daisy." 

"I like Daisy," Joey replied with a small but genuine smile. 

Lincoln smiled back. "Yeah, me too." 

Turning to the room at large, he said, "We all do. That's kind of the point of this whole thing." 

Coulson and May, Hunter noticed, were still mirroring each other with folded arms - but they both looked a lot less hostile than they had thirty seconds ago. "Go on," May said, as encouragingly as any boyfriend of Daisy's would ever get from her. 

"Daisy's birthday is in a few days," Lincoln said, getting straight to the point. "Her _real_ birthday. And before you ask, yeah, she didn't use to know, but she found out in Afterlife from Jiaying." 

"She probably didn't tell us because she didn't want to force us to do anything for her," May said, her expression a mixture of frustrated and compassionate. 

Beside her, Coulson nodded, then shook his head. "Which is, of course, ridiculous," he said. "We'd like nothing _more_ than to make her birthday something special for her." 

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, and Hunter's heart expanded with affection. Daisy - or Skye, or, really, whoever you knew her as - was just one of those people who worked their way into your heart, often without you even realising it. She was one of those people who had been through far more than anyone her age - or just _anyone,_ really - should have go go through, but despite it all, she still managed to be one of the kindest, most compassionate and most optimistic people you would ever meet. 

It was more than a little amazing, and, needless to say, everybody here would want to show Daisy that. 

"Right, everyone," Hunter said, stepping forward and clapping his hands. "We should have about half an hour before Daisy smells a rat and comes looking for us. Until then - party ideas?" 

"Jem, I think you know Daisy the best of us all here," Lincoln said, crossing the room to stand next to Fitzsimmons' couch. "What party treats would Daisy like best?" 

Even as Jemma's brow wrinkled thoughtfully, Hunter filed away that little nickname, _Jem,_ in some corner of his mind _._ As far as he knew, Fitz, Daisy and Bobbi (and him, occasionally) were the only people who called Jemma that. So having Lincoln do it was… interesting. 

And, actually, the more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. They had very similar interests - medicine and Inhuman biology, for example - and if Lincoln had been helping Jemma recover after Maveth… well, that had the potential to be a really sweet friendship. 

… Damn. He'd have to have a talk with Bobbi about this, wouldn't he? Her constant analysis of people and situations seemed to be rubbing off on him. 

But these were his friends, right? He cared about them all being happy, so all in all, he figured it made sense. 

Did this mean he had to thank Bob, though? Because if so, he could think of more than one creative way to - 

Jemma was speaking, he realised with a mildly regretful jolt, reluctantly abandoning his plans. (He _would_ come back to them, though, that much was a promise - to him and to Bobbi.) 

"... Twix," Jemma was saying thoughtfully. "I know she loves Twix. And those knockoff winegums you guys have - what do you call them again?" 

"Winegums? What the hell?" Bobbi asked, her eyebrows flying up. 

"You know, love, those gummy jelly sweets?" Hunter reminded her. "I'm pretty sure my dad gave you some the last time you visited." 

"Oh, I remember those," Bobbi said, recognition flashing in her gaze. _"Winegums,_ though? Really?" 

"They're not _actually_ alcohol, they're just -" Jemma began, but trailed off mid-sentence, apparently deciding that explaining British sweets to a group of Americans was mission impossible. Which… fair decision. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, and Hunter was just starting to worry about her when she snapped her fingers, her eyes sparkling as she remembered. "Swedish fish! That's what those pink sweets Daisy likes so much are called." 

"Pink _candy,"_ Lincoln corrected, making a note on his phone. "But thanks." 

Jemma narrowed her eyes at him, and he smiled innocently. "What? Daisy's American. She likes _candy."_

"And hobnobs, doesn't she?" Fitz said suddenly. "I remember she used to steal those ones your mum sent to the Bus all the time, right, Jem?" 

"Oh, you're right," Jemma agreed, nudging his shoulder lightly with hers. 

Hunter was all attention again - casual, easy little touches, _yes,_ this was the way Fitzsimmons was supposed to be. Now if they would only _stay_ that way… 

"Hobnobs, h-o-b-n-o-b-s?" Lincoln clarified, typing it out with a very dubious expression. "What the hell are those?" 

_"Mate,"_ Hunter said, scandalised enough that he glanced away from his Fitzsimmons study. "How do you not know what hobnobs are? They're only the world's best biscuits for with tea!" 

"The important part is that Daisy likes them," Mack interjected before things could get out of hand. (Damage control! There, see, excellent job.) 

Lincoln gave him a little salute. "Anything else?" 

"Well, no party is complete without crisps," Hunter said. "Or, well, chips, I suppose you guys would say." He pulled a face. That _really_ wasn't the same thing. 

"Also, cake," he added after a second's thought. "You can't celebrate a birthday without cake. Does anyone know what kind -" 

"Chocolate," May said suddenly, and to everyone's surprise. "When I took over her field agent training last year, she told me a lot of things late at night while we were running drills. One of them was that she had only ever had vanilla cake, and crappy vanilla cake, at the orphanage, because they couldn't be bothered to spend on anything that was actually good."

"She said that she always used to sit there and stare at the cake at her classmates' parties, because it would always be so _big,_ and chocolatey, and great. She's never had anything like that." 

There was complete silence in the room for a moment, and then Coulson reached forward and pulled May into a hug. She tensed, her fingers splayed stiffly over his shoulders, but then he murmured, "this is for Daisy, okay?" and she actually - _Melinda May_ actually - relaxed into it. 

To his left, he heard a soft grumble of "fuck it," and then, before he had time to process what was happening, Bobbi had stepped forward and was hugging him, too, exhaling softly and resting her head against his shoulder. 

"Oh, just go with it," she grumbled when Hunter stood still against her, completely taken by surprise. "It's a nice moment, okay?" 

He had to give her that - and, really, Bob hugging him, who was he to complain? _Especially_ not when he caught sight of Jemma snuggling up to Fitz on the couch. 

Yep, this moment was pretty perfect. 

And the party was going to be too. 

//

July 2nd, 2016 dawned like any other day, and progressed like one too - which had _exactly_ been their intention. Daisy wasn't supposed to suspect they knew _anything_ until game time. 

Which was… Hunter checked his watch… three minutes away. 

_Come on, Lincoln,_ he thought, glancing anxiously up at the door. _Get your girlfriend here._

And sure enough, exactly three minutes later - 

"... and then May kicked that racist's ass straight through the window," came Daisy's voice, bright and gleeful. 

Lincoln laughed, and Hunter could just _see_ the way his whole demeanor would lighten. "I wish I could've been there to see that, it sounds completely badass," he said, the smile in his voice clear. 

"It _was,"_ Daisy agreed, her voice floating ever closer. 

Lincoln chuckled, soft and affectionate and completely real, and Hunter had to give him props for how good he was at this. (... Or maybe he was just ridiculously in love, and couldn't _help_ sounding that sappy when he talked to his girlfriend.)

Either way, Daisy shouldn't suspect a thing. 

"Hey, would you like to grab something to eat, while we're here?" Lincoln asked, deliberately casual, and Hunter tensed. That was the signal. 

He held up three fingers in an OK ring to Fitz and Jemma, and they exchanged nods before briskly readying the automated confetti string guns they had designed the night before.

A second later, Daisy walked through the door… and, _boom,_ the string guns went off, showering the whole room in rainbow confetti. 

"Happy birthday, Daisy!" Fitz and Jemma shouted, stepping out from behind the door and wrapping their friend in a double hug. 

In a chorus of _Happy Birthday_ 's, the rest of the team stepped out from behind the furniture in the Playground's lounge, too, everyone beaming at Daisy over Fitz and Jemma's shoulders. 

"Oh my _God,_ you guys," Daisy said once her best friends had released her, looking simultaneously blown away and deeply touched. "I can't believe you all actually did this!" 

"Surprise," Hunter said, waving a party hat at her. 

Daisy's smile slipped a little, and she winced. "Yeah, um. About that…" 

Hunter's party-hat stopped mid-swing. "Wait, what?" 

"Come on, you can't all disappear for an hour and expect I won't check up on you," Daisy pointed out. She bit her lip, looking a little guilty, but mostly still touched. "So I kind of… heard you all planning something for my birthday?" 

_"Spoilsport,"_ Hunter groaned dramatically. 

"I stopped listening as soon as I heard you were talking about my birthday!" Daisy protested, raising both her hands. She raised an eyebrow, looking challengingly around the room. "But, really, guys, this is kinda on you too," she said. "How did you _forget_ you had a hacker on the base?" 

"Okay, _that_ was dumb of us," Coulson agreed, his eyes softening with affection as he crossed the room and pulled her into a hug, murmuring something that sounded like, "I'm still so proud of you," into her hair. 

Daisy hugged him back, tucking her head into his shoulder and wearing a soft, touched kind of smile. 

"Really, though," she said when he stepped back, glancing around the room with a mixture of wonder, affection and awe. "It might have been dumb of you to forget about my hacking, but I can't believe you actually did _all_ this." 

She shook her head as she looked around the room, taking in the mass of streamers and candy and party balloons and cake, and the big sign that they had all hand-painted that morning that read _Happy Birthday, Daisy!_ with about seventy purple hearts courtesy of Jemma. 

Her gaze lingered on the rather spectacular chocolate cake right beneath it, something that was simultaneously vulnerable and deeply touched filling her gaze. 

_"May,"_ she murmured, crossing the room to her SO, who was standing beside the cake with a faint half-smile on her lips, and hugging her tightly. 

May's posture was initially stiff and tense against the hug, but she relaxed remarkably quickly, whispering something that made Daisy hug her even tighter. 

When she finally stepped away from her SO, her eyes were a little damp, and she swiped a fierce hand across them. "Come on, guys," she said, trying for a laugh. "You don't get to make me cry from happiness!" 

"You're welcome," Hunter said, waving at her with an affectionate smile. 

Daisy crossed the room to stand next to him and Bobbi, beaming at them both too. "I know you two had a lot to do with the planning, probably," she said. "So thanks, a lot." 

Bobbi pulled her in for a quick hug. "Anytime," she said, resting her hands on the younger agent's shoulders. "Really." 

Daisy hugged her again, tucking her head under Bobbi's chin, and Bobbi smiled in a way that Hunter had rarely seen her do. He wished he could snap a picture. 

Still half in Bobbi's arms, Daisy turned to Mack on her other side. "Partner, I'm assuming you're to thank for the sanity here?" 

"You're assuming correctly," Mack said with a wry smile. 

Daisy turned her touched, affectionate puppy eyes on him, stepping out of Bobbi's arms and into his. "Thanks a lot, Mack, I really appreciate it," she said softly. 

Mack squeezed her tightly, enough that she patted his bicep with a faintly choked expression. Chuckling, he let her go - but his expression was tender as he said, "Anytime, Tremors." 

They were super sweet, and very partner-y. They were lovely. 

They had _also_ had a significant minute by now. 

Clearing his throat, Hunter poked Daisy in the side. "Oi! Why am I the only one who doesn't get a hug?" 

Daisy rolled her eyes, but promptly hugged him too, hiding her grin in his leather jacket. 

He patted her on the back, melting a little inside at the way she leaned easily against him. "I feel like I should say something really meaningful right about now," he told her, "but I also feel like whatever May said is going to be a thousand times better, so I'm just going to tell you, enjoy the Twix."

He winked, and Daisy rolled her eyes again, but she was grinning. "Thanks, Hunter." 

He gave her a little salute, smiling right back. 

"And when you're done there," Jemma's voice called from the doorway, and Hunter turned around, his heart bounding when he saw that Fitz had one arm wrapped around Jemma's shoulders. It was probably to hold her up, because technically she was still weak from torture, but… his _heart!_ She just looked so happy there, her arm looped through Fitz's and a soft smile on her lips. 

"Don't forget you have Joey to thank for the decorations," Jemma called to Daisy. 

Daisy turned around to the last member of their impromptu party, her eyes widening with surprised pleasure. "You did all this?" 

“I mean, it’s not that much,” Joey said with a half-embarrassed shrug. “Anyway, everyone helped, and -- oh, I get a hug,” he said, that last part as Daisy stepped in and hugged him close.

“Of course you get a hug, teammate,” Daisy said, slapping his shoulder and flashing him a friendly grin. “This is amazing!”

“And that applies for all of you,” she said, turning around to address the room at large. Her eyes lingered on Lincoln for a second. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Sparky,” she said, her body language opening and her tone turning flirtatious. “You’ll just be getting your thank-you in private.”

Coulson, who had just been smiling for all the world like a proud father, choked on his drink, so much so that May had to give him a hard slap on the back. “Too much information,” he spluttered when he had recovered.

Daisy gave him a cheeky grin without so much as a hint of apology. “Great party, AC.”

“Seriously, though,” she said after a second, her gaze turning serious. “This is… I’ve never had anything like this before, at all, let alone on, you know, my real birthday. So that you all gathered here and did this for me, when I didn’t even ask you to… it just means _so_ much to me. So much.”

She turned slowly around, meeting everyone’s gazes to let them all know how sincerely she meant it. 

Hunter was deeply, deeply touched - and more than a little mad at whatever _arseholes_ had let this become such a novel experience for Daisy. How _dare_ they, honestly? Couldn’t they see how absobloodylutely amazing she was? 

But much as he’d like to travel back in time and give each and every one of those arseholes a hearty punch in the nose, he knew he couldn’t do that.

He _could,_ however, make sure that nothing like that ever happened again. 

“Well,” he told Daisy and the room at large, reaching for a bottle of Bendeery’s and raising it in a toast, “I think I’m speaking for everyone here when I say, get used to that feeling, because each and every one of us in the room would be willing to do it all again at the drop of a penny.”

Everyone in the room raised some kind of drink - “amen to that” - “to Daisy!” - 

… and the clinks of glasses and laughing faces and happy wishes blurred together into an evening of pure happiness.

//

Much, much later that night, Hunter was helping Bobbi clear the last of the dirty plates and glasses and crumpled-up confetti. Fitz and Jemma had long since disappeared, Jemma regretfully saying that she needed to get some rest (which was vehemently backed by both Lincoln and Fitz, the latter of whom helped her to her bunk and hadn’t been seen since.) Coulson and May had made the regrettably reasonable excuse that, wonderful as this had been, they _actually_ had world-threatening crises to deal with (or, at least, paperwork.) Mack had reminded everyone that they still had missions in the morning, and would therefore require one person who wasn’t completely hungover (which had resulted in endless rule-follower boy mockery from Daisy.) Joey had gotten a call from his boyfriend, and everyone had waved him off to go take it (Daisy with much smirking and suggestive hand gestures, to everyone’s great amusement.) 

Daisy, of course, was the birthday girl, so _she_ wouldn’t be clearing up, and at this point getting Lincoln to leave her side would be harder than trying to get Fitzsimmons to stop finishing people’s sentences - which left Hunter and Bobbi to clean up. 

As he was carrying the last stack of plates to the kitchen, Hunter paused in the doorway and saw Daisy murmuring to Lincoln, and him half-smiling, gesturing around to include the whole room. 

Daisy put her hands on her hips, holding up two fingers and deliberately folding them down like she was proving a point. 

Lincoln laughed, his blue eyes lighting up with a happy, affectionate glow, and he held up his hands, saying something that looked like “you got me.” 

Daisy’s expression, too, turned very soft, and she reached up to catch his hands in her own, lacing the fingers of both their hands together in midair. Her smile was surprisingly open and vulnerable as she said what could only be a “thank you,” to him, holding his gaze to let him know how sincere she was. 

Gently untangling their hands, he leaned down kissed her, soft and sweet and slow, his hand going to rest comfortably on her hips and hers around his neck. They looked so happy together, and so _comfortable,_ like they fitted against each other without having to think or worry about it. The way they looked at each other and _cared_ about each other was just so natural and easy and _open,_ for the both of them, and -

 _“Hunter,”_ Bobbi hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him sharply away. “Leave them alone, you dumbass.” 

“It was just getting interesting!” he protested, but let himself be pulled away with little argument. 

“Idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes, but there was only affection behind it. "Overprotective idiot." 

"Nah, not overprotective," he said, shaking her hand off his shoulder and lacing their fingers instead. "Supportive." He put the stack of plates down on the sink and looked her directly in the eye. “I wasn’t too sure about him at first, but he’s a decent guy.” 

“He really is,” Bobbi replied, her gaze softening slightly. “And he and Daisy bring out the best in each other, you know?” 

“Definitely,” Hunter agreed. “I haven’t seen Daisy smile this much in… well, I don’t think I _have_ seen her smile this much, period. And they relax each other; you can see it every time they walk into a room.” 

“Observational!” Bobbi said, slight surprise colouring her voice. 

Hunter came to a stop, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at her. “I can be, you know.” 

Her gaze softened even more. “I know you can.” 

“For example,” he said with just a hint of playfulness, “I’m _observing_ right now that you just melted almost as much as Daisy and Lincoln do when they give each other the gooey eyes.” 

“Rubbish,” Bobbi scoffed, but her eyes were sparkling. 

"Come here," Hunter said, catching her wrist and tugging her flush against him, then spinning them around so her back was pressed against the kitchen counter. 

Bobbi smirked slightly, none-too-subtly shoving the stack of plates out of the way behind her and lifting her hands to grip the lapels of his jacket. She had lost her high heels at some point during the evening, so that when he shifted into her space, their noses were brushing.

"By the way, I actually owe you a thank-you for those observational skills," he said, nudging her nose with his. "And I have a pretty good idea of how I'm going to do that." 

Bobbi's eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, their sky-blue a shade or two darker than usual. "Care to share?" she murmured, tightening her grip on the lapels of his jacket. 

Hunter reached up and tangled his fingers through hers, holding both her hands in his. “Most definitely,” he said. “But after this much alcohol, I don’t think the kitchen is the best idea.”

“What, your little British ass can’t hold its drinks?” Bobbi teased.

“Oh, I’ll show you a little something about holding drinks,” he promised, shaking their interlaced hands at her and listening to her laugh, clear and happy, float through the still night on the base.

Daisy and Lincoln could have their lovey-dovey mush - and good for them, really. But Hunter had Bob, and he'd never change that for the world, no matter how many times he wanted to actually strangle her. 

To each their own. And even _if_ the lack of Guinness in this place was an utter travesty, it all worked out pretty perfectly in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> *coughs* Okay, so, during the process of writing this fic, my 3am brain may or may not have gotten completely hooked on the idea of Hunter/Lincoln as a ship. I'm calling Huntingshock as the ship name, and there is a very high possibility that I can be persuaded to write for them in the next couple of weeks. 
> 
> Anyway - Ania, I hope you had an amazing day, and I _do_ hope you've enjoyed this fic!!


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